That night, although the snow had stopped, a fierce wind began howling outside the windows. The cold wind blew the snow in the courtyard down in rustling waves, making the window paper flap loudly.
The heated floor connecting Mingluan Palace’s main hall to the eastern side hall had been burning for several days, making the room quite warm. But Jun Linghuan was frightened by the howling wind and insisted that Jun Huailang stay with her and tell her stories.
Jun Huailang, however, was somewhat distracted.
He had turned over Dian Cui’s strange behavior from today several times in his mind, and uneasiness was growing in his heart.
According to Consort Shu’s personality, although she was domineering and willful, she had never cared to deliberately make things difficult for people. She rarely involved herself in matters, large or small, and left them all to Dian Cui to handle.
But what if Dian Cui had acted on her own initiative and committed some misdeeds in Consort Shu’s name?
Then Consort Shu would be the one to incur grudges with others. Dian Cui was merely a servant. Whatever conflicts or hatred arose, people would only remember Consort Shu.
Thinking of Consort Shu’s strange death in his previous life, Jun Huailang felt increasingly restless.
Moreover, today was truly very cold. Although the heated floor in their hall was burning, cold wind still seeped through the cracks around the windows, bringing with it a faint chill that penetrated to the bones.
Jun Huailang simply could not stop thinking about Xue Yan’s thin clothing and the pitifully small amount of luggage carried by the little eunuch following behind him.
Jun Huailang began arguing with himself internally.
Just then, Jun Linghuan shook his arm and asked, “Brother, what happened next?”
Jun Huailang froze. “Hm?”
Jun Linghuan asked again, “The scholar encountered a snake demon on his way to take the imperial examination. What happened next?”
Only then did Jun Huailang realize that he had unknowingly stopped halfway through the story again.
He apologized gently. “Sorry. Brother was a little distracted today. The scholar encountered a torrential rainstorm on the way and became stranded on a boat…”
But Jun Linghuan softly asked, “Brother, what are you thinking about?”
Jun Huailang lowered his head and met those clear eyes. The concern within them could not be hidden at all.
His heart ached.
He felt that his overly softhearted thoughts were an injustice to the humiliation Jun Linghuan had suffered in her previous life.
He said quietly, “Just now, Brother was thinking about going to the western side hall to see that brother who just moved in.”
Jun Linghuan said matter-of-factly, “Then go, Brother. A few days ago, I heard the palace maids talking. They said the heated floor in the western side hall is broken, and it’s terribly cold inside. They went there to clean for two days, and they even developed frostbite on their hands.”
Jun Huailang paused before saying quietly, “But he is a bad person.”
Jun Linghuan immediately asked nervously, “What bad thing did he do?”
That left Jun Huailang unable to answer.
After a moment, he honestly said, “Although he hasn’t done anything bad yet, he will in the future.”
Then he added, “He’ll do very bad things.”
Jun Linghuan had never doubted anything Jun Huailang said. She gave a long “Oh,” and instead began thinking hard.
After thinking for a long time, she still could not figure it out.
“Brother, if he wasn’t born a bad person, then why did he become bad?”
Because everyone in the world feared him because of a divination, wanted him dead, and therefore treated him cruelly.
Jun Huailang could not say that.
After a long silence, he did not answer Jun Linghuan’s question. Instead, he asked, “Linghuan, what if he becomes your brother’s enemy in the future?”
Jun Linghuan was stumped. She thought for a long time but could not answer.
After a moment, she asked, “Can’t you just not become enemies with him?”
“But Brother needs to take revenge,” Jun Huailang said.
Jun Linghuan smiled.
“Didn’t Brother say you will become enemies in the future? How can you take revenge for a future grudge now?”
Jun Huailang froze.
He had to admit that Jun Linghuan was right.
No matter how heinous Xue Yan had been in his previous life, the Xue Yan of this life truly had not done anything yet.
Jun Linghuan suddenly reached out and tugged at his robe.
“Brother, compared with taking revenge, Linghuan still wants you to be safe and sound,” Jun Linghuan said. “If he’s a bad person, then don’t provoke him, okay?”
Jun Huailang froze.
Then he saw Jun Linghuan pout and mutter softly, “How could Brother possibly beat a bad person? What if Brother gets bullied?”
Jun Huailang paused.
Something that had been堵塞 in his heart for a long time seemed to be slowly melting away.
Indeed, everything from his previous life had not happened yet.
If he went against his own nature and kept opposing Xue Yan, coldly watching him suffer abuse, he would instead become Xue Yan’s enemy.
As long as he lacked the ability to kill Xue Yan, Xue Yan would inevitably rise again just as he had in his previous life. When that happened, the Jun family would still face annihilation.
Compared with becoming endlessly entangled in the cause and effect of his previous life, protecting his family was what he should be doing most in this life.
Right now, by allowing Xue Yan to suffer mistreatment in Consort Shu’s palace, the person Xue Yan would ultimately resent would be Consort Shu.
If Consort Shu’s death in his previous life had indeed been connected to Xue Yan, and if Jun Huailang had no absolute confidence that he could prevent it in this life, then by allowing Xue Yan to suffer now, he was not actually allowing Xue Yan to suffer.
He was allowing Consort Shu’s future death to happen.
Jun Huailang sat upright.
“Then Linghuan, wait here for Brother, all right?” Jun Huailang said. “Brother is going to go take a look.”
Jun Linghuan obediently nodded.
Jun Huailang stood up, put on his heavy cloak and cape, and had a palace maid bring him a lantern before walking out alone.
The moment the door opened, a cold wind carrying fragments of snow blew directly into his face, sending his long hair and cape flying and making him shiver.
“Young Master, where are you going so late at night?” Fuyi hurriedly came over from beneath the corridor.
“I’m going to take a look at the western side hall,” Jun Huailang said calmly. “I’ll go myself. You don’t need to follow.”
Fuyi was somewhat worried, but when she heard that he was not leaving the palace gates, she could only agree.
She hurriedly fetched a small silver hand warmer decorated with delicate carvings and stuffed it into Jun Huailang’s hand.
Jun Huailang lowered his head and saw the exquisite, delicate patterns. At a glance, it was clearly something meant for a woman.
He immediately tried to hand the warmer back, but Fuyi refused to take it.
“Young Master, just take it! It’s so cold outside. What will we do if you catch cold?”
Jun Huailang had no choice. Holding the lantern in one hand and the hand warmer in the other, he braced himself against the cold wind and walked toward the western side hall.
Consort Shu had already gone to sleep in the main hall. The lights had been extinguished, leaving the courtyard pitch-black.
The western side hall was equally dark, without even a single glimmer of lamplight.
Jun Huailang thought, Could he already be asleep?
He figured that if Xue Yan was asleep, it would conveniently spare him the awkwardness. Tomorrow, he could ask the eunuch in charge what was missing and have everything supplied. That would be enough to let Xue Yan live here peacefully with his family.
As he approached, Jun Huailang finally saw the state of the place.
Xue Yan lived in the room at the very corner of the western side hall. The door looked extremely thin, and the windows could not even be properly closed.
This place must once have been a small storage room. Later, because the door could not be properly shut and things kept going missing, Dian Cui had arranged for everything to be moved out, leaving behind an empty room.
From a distance, the room looked just like all the others, with green tiles and upturned eaves.
Only when one came closer could one see that the paper covering the windows was torn, flapping loudly in the wind.
Jinbao had wrapped himself in several layers of clothing, yet still looked like a huge dumpling. He was standing guard at the doorway, leaning beneath the corridor and dozing.
He was so cold and dazed that he hovered between sleep and wakefulness, completely unaware that Jun Huailang had arrived.
Jun Huailang did not wake him.
He stood beneath the corridor for a while, then decided to take a look through the window. If nothing was wrong, he would quietly return without disturbing anyone.
After all, Xue Yan had a strong constitution. Surely nothing serious would happen to him.
Thinking this, he walked to the window and looked inside through a hole about the size of a fist in the broken paper.
Then he froze.
The room was pitch-black.
By the light of the lantern in his hand, he saw Xue Yan lying on a hard wooden bed without curtains, his back facing the door and windows.
There were not even any blankets.
He wore only thin clothes and appeared to be completely motionless. But looking carefully, Jun Huailang could see that he had his arms wrapped around his shoulders and was trembling slightly, as though suppressing something.
He looked like an abandoned dog curled up in a corner.
Pitiful beyond words.
Jun Huailang unconsciously clenched his teeth.
Then he carried the lantern and pushed open the door, walking straight inside.
The room was very small, containing only a bed and a table. Even the palace servants’ rooms were probably better than this.
Only after entering did Jun Huailang realize that the room faced away from the sun. It was not only cold but also damp, making it even harder to endure than the outdoors.
He crossed the room in two steps and reached the bedside.
Xue Yan had developed the habit of vigilance from his years on the battlefield. Even in sleep, he was exceptionally alert, waking at the slightest sound.
The instant the door opened, his eyes snapped open.
By reflex, one hand reached beneath his pillow for the dagger while the other gathered strength, ready to strike the intruder’s throat.
The shadow drew closer, carrying a warm orange light.
The next moment, the hand gripping the dagger froze in place.
Because a white brocade cape carrying the warmth of a person’s body descended over him, enveloping him completely.
Soft, fluffy fox fur surrounded his cheeks, so warm that it felt almost like an illusion.
For once, Xue Yan was somewhat stunned.
Only afterward did he come back to himself. He raised his hand and touched the cold sweat on his forehead, remembering what had just happened.
After moving in here, there had been nothing in the room.
He was not actually afraid of the cold. That bone-chilling sensation that others found unbearable did not count as much suffering to him.
But what he found difficult to admit was that he was afraid of the dark.
At the twelfth lunar month at the beginning of the year, he had led a unit of Yan Yun Iron Cavalry in defending the city gates for an entire month. Only then had he managed to preserve the elite strength of the Yan Yun Iron Cavalry and move them to a safe area.
The final battle had taken place in the pitch-black depths of night.
He had been buried beneath a heap of corpses.
Within reach were nothing but mangled bodies, all of them people he had once known. They had buried him so tightly that not even a gap remained.
They had used their lives to preserve Xue Yan’s.
The last personal guard of Prince Yan had been beside him, half of his face mangled beyond recognition, with only a final breath remaining.
That man repeatedly told him that he had to return alive, climb to the very peak of power, recover Yan Commandery, and avenge Prince Yan.
He had been buried among the corpses for an entire night.
All around him was darkness.
He could see nothing.
Only at dawn did that personal guard use the last trace of strength in his body to push him out from beneath the pile of corpses and make him escape.
At that time, the main force of the Turks had just withdrawn.
He stood there alone, surrounded by beacon fires that had not yet completely burned out.
At last, there was light.
He did not know how many people he had killed. Alone, he had carved a bloody path out.
From that moment onward, he began to fear the dark.
No matter when or where, he could endure anything, as long as there was even the slightest trace of light.
But tonight, dark clouds had covered the moon, leaving not even a sliver of light.
He had sent Jinbao to fetch a candle, but no one paid any attention to Jinbao.
So Xue Yan silently forced himself to fall asleep in the darkness.
Sure enough, the suffocating darkness of that night surged into his dreams like a tide, nearly drowning him.
Until someone came.
Xue Yan unconsciously raised his hand and touched the soft fur around the collar.
The warm cape carried a faint scent of grass and wood, like the white birch trees on the outskirts of Yan Commandery in winter—slender and delicate, yet capable of withstanding the biting northern wind.
He saw that cool and handsome young man place the lantern in his hand on the table and turn around.
A room filled with warm yellow light.
And that gentle radiance drove away all the darkness from his dreams, the darkness that had been filled with the suffocating stench of blood.